


Dancing Over Water Weeds

by sweetNsimple



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aunt is POV second person, Aunt-Niece Relationship, Domestic Violence, Each uisge girlfiend, Exophilia, F/F, F/M, Inspired by momolady on Tumblr, Kelpies, Niece is POV first person, POV First Person, POV Second Person, Past Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, These tags make no sense until you read the story, each uisge, monster girlfriend, monster girlfriend saves reader from abusive marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 19:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: I watched the surprise bloom across her face during the phone call.  My aunt was not only willing to have me over, but excited to!  She had been wanting me to come visit for the past year, but we had changed our number and she didn’t know how to get a hold of us.  She’d tried sending letters, but we had also apparently moved?  She’d been scared she would have to get a Facebook account or something to find us again.I stood there, gawking.  My aunt wanted me to visit?  I crowded my mom while she was still on the phone.  “Is her husband dead?” was what came out of my mouth.She gave me a horrified look.  “Oh, please!”  She cried my name in admonishment.  “That’s a terrible thing to say.”  She had no idea what her sister went through with that monster.~::~In your cottage by the loch, you suffered horrible abuse from your husband.  After four years of torture, you could take no more, and took yourself to the loch to end your life.  You were not expecting the water spirit that lived there to change your life and show you what it meant to be truly happy.





	Dancing Over Water Weeds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [momolady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/momolady/gifts).

My aunt loved to sing and dance. It was like being in a Disney movie whenever I went to visit. She had a little cottage near the loch, moss growing on the roof and vines intertwining over the walls, a goat that wandered the yard untended. She would make cookies just for me and hold me on her hip while they baked as she swirled and twirled around the kitchen. She’d dip me and leave kisses on my cheeks, telling me I was beautiful in the form of melodies and funny voices. I loved her. I loved her _so_ much.

But I still begged my mom not to make me go. My aunt would beg my mom not to let me go. I heard more than one phone conversation where my aunt would try her best to not let me come over, excuses ranging from not feeling well to not being available. My mom needed a lot of alone time with her boyfriend, though, which meant no kids around because her boyfriend didn’t like me. Sometimes, my mom would say she understood, hang up the phone, and then pack me up and drop me off without a noise. I was always told that I’d be in trouble if I let my aunt know I was there before my mom was out of sight. My aunt didn’t have a car, so she couldn’t take me back to mom’s. Once I was there, I was stuck there.

My aunt and I tried to make the best of it each time. Sometimes, I could forget why I didn’t want to be there. She made me so happy, I wished she was my mom instead. 

But then we would hear the engine of a big truck coming up to the cottage. Everything stopped once we heard the car door open and shut. My aunt’s eyes, which glowed with mirth, would dim and become distant. I used to think of it like she had just left her body and her soul was wandering somewhere far away in a safe place. 

The kitchen was between the living room and the staircase to the upstairs, and the front door was on the other side of the living room. She would pick me up, tiptoe upstairs, and tuck me into the guest bedroom. No matter what time of day it was, I would hide under the bed and be very quiet. She would leave and return downstairs.

I loved my aunt, but we were both so, so scared of her husband. He had never hurt me, and my aunt had never let me see him hurt her, but my ears worked just fine, and I could see just how she died a little every time he came home. From under the bed, I could hear him hurting her in the kitchen. He’d do things to her that would make me cry just by listening to it, and I’d shove my fist in my mouth to stop from being too noisy. 

It would always only be for a few hours. I’d hear the front door slam after he hurt her. She’d wait a little while before coming and getting me. She tried to not let me see how hurt she was, tried to cover up the marks and put her clothes to rights, but I was a smart girl. 

I loved my aunt, but we both wished I wouldn’t visit her. She wanted to keep me safe, and I wanted to feel safe. 

Eventually, my mom broke up with her boyfriend and hooked up with someone who actually wanted children. Suddenly, she always wanted me around. I was so happy, I’d hug her boyfriend, Dave, every time he came over. I wanted to endear myself to him so that he would never send me to my aunt’s. It worked, and I did not see my aunt for four years. 

During those years, I still thought of her. I missed her so bad. I wanted to call her, just to hear her voice, but my mom wouldn’t let me. She was scared that I would want to go visit. Dave had a lot of money that she was greedy for, but he wanted to be a dad more than a boyfriend. I was her bargaining chip. 

Recently, something changed. She gave him the ultimatum to either get married, or I would go away. By that, she meant that she would break up with him, but we both knew he liked me better. I liked him better too. He didn’t like my mom by then, that much I could tell, but I think he had a scheme that he would marry her, divorce her, and then go to court for parental rights. I was willing to beg the judge to let me stay with him.

In the end, he agreed to marry her. My mom finally called my aunt after four years of silence and asked if she could watch me. She was going on her honeymoon and I needed somewhere to stay while they went off to Paris. Dave promised to take me there someday without my mom, which made me really happy. 

I watched the surprise bloom across her face during the phone call. My aunt was not only willing to have me over, but excited to! She had been wanting me to come visit for the past year, but we had changed our number and she didn’t know how to get a hold of us. She’d tried sending letters, but we had also apparently moved? She’d been scared she would have to get a Facebook account or something to find us again. 

I stood there, gawking. My aunt _wanted_ me to visit? I crowded my mom while she was still on the phone. “Is her husband dead?” was what came out of my mouth.

She gave me a horrified look. “Oh, please!” She cried my name in admonishment. “That’s a terrible thing to say.” She had no idea what her sister went through with that monster.

On the phone, I could hear my aunt laughing. I was so happy to hear her that I almost started crying. I could just barely hear her say, _“Tell her that everything is fine. Everything will be okay if she wants to come visit. Things have changed! They really have.” _

It wasn’t a yes or a no, so I wasn’t completely sure how things had changed. Nonetheless, I was excited. Suddenly energized instead of afraid, I packed a bag and demanded to go immediately instead of waiting another three days. Dave begged me to stay. “Please don’t leave me alone with her,” he said. 

“I really miss my aunt, dad,” I told him. He loved me and wanted me to be happy, so he dropped me off that night, even though my mom said I could wait. 

The cottage hadn’t changed. It still looked like something straight out of a fairytale book. Whilikers the goat was four years older and still chewing on grass in the front yard. In the distance, I could see the glittering surface of the loch, so close that the scent of freshwater made me feel clean. 

My aunt stepped out of the cottage, beaming. I ran to her, all but leaping into her arms. I missed her so much!

She laughed with delight. “Hey there, jitterbug.” She held me close and kissed the top of my head. “You’re so tall now! I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!” She thrust out a hand. “Hi, you must be Dave.”

“She talks about you a lot,” Dave said, shaking her hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, though I’m not too happy about letting go of my daughter.” 

My aunt appraised him from top to bottom, clearly debating whether he was a good man or not. 

“I’m going to miss you too, dad,” I told him, just so my aunt would know that I was actually happy. 

My aunt relaxed just slightly, still not letting me go. For a few minutes, she and Dave talked. I fantasized for a moment how great it would be if they were married instead. 

As soon as I had the thought, a hulking figure came out of the cottage.

My heart dropped into my stomach. My hands turned to claws in the front of my aunt’s sweater, holding on for dear life. I felt like I would shake apart at any moment. It was _him_. Her husband. He was just as tall as I remember, having to tilt his head to avoid hitting it off the doorframe. His shoulders took up so much space and his hands were as big as frying pans. I used to think that my aunt looked so small and soft compared to him. She was chubby and short, and he was a wall of muscle bearing down on us. 

“Hello,” he said to Dave, not quite smiling, though his deep brown eyes twinkled. “I’m the hubby, Logan.” 

I almost turned to Dave and begged him to take me back home. I was thirteen, I could watch myself for five days. 

My aunt’s arms tightened. She kissed my temple. “It’s alright,” she said. “It’s okay. It’s not what you think, I promise. I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.” She said all this too low for Dave to hear as he talked with Logan. I had never told Dave about the horrible way Logan treated my aunt. I was afraid he wouldn’t believe me, just like my mom, even though they were two completely different people. Nonetheless, Dave eyed Logan with mistrust. I think he had picked up from me over the years why I didn’t want to visit my aunt. He looked cautiously from Logan to my aunt, as if trying to psychically sense if any abuse had occurred recently.

There was nothing, though. My aunt was totally relaxed, smiling and happy. She looked to Logan with stars in her eyes, head tilted back. Logan took the hint and kissed her on the tip of my nose, so painfully cute that I wanted to hit him. He didn’t have the right. He had _no_ right. My teeth gnashed together as he smiled at my aunt like he actually cared for her. I knew he didn’t. All he did was hurt her. 

“There’s so much I have to tell you,” my aunt was saying to me with heavy meaning. I felt like she was trying to say something with her eyes. What did she have to say? Did Logan get help and now he was all better? I wasn’t sure I would believe her, and I was positive I would never forgive him.

I hugged Dave goodbye. More like, I clung to him like a koala and had to chew on every plea to take me back. 

“Are you sure you want to stay here?” he asked, as if he knew. He probably did. He was the one who woke up and soothed me after my nightmares. He really was a great dad. 

“I-I’m sure,” I said, though I felt like I might start crying. At the least, I decided, I wanted to be there with my aunt one last time. I was taller than the last time I visited, only a head shorter than her. Maybe I could fight with her and we could kill him.

I decided that probably wasn’t a decision most thirteen-year old kids had to make, but there it was. It helped center me long enough to let him go and watch him drive away. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” my aunt said. Logan had come up behind her and wrapped himself around her. His hands rubbed up and down her arms. “And I am so, so sorry that I could never fully protect you from him.”

“You did your best,” I choked. Tears were in my eyes. I wanted to scream at him to stop! Let her go! Don’t _touch_ her. And then, to my surprise, I actually screamed, “Don’t _fucking_ touch her!” I flinched, expecting to be hurt.

Logan let her go, slowly and with hands up as if he meant to say he was not dangerous.

My aunt came to me and wiped away my tears. “Jitterbug,” she said. “I did my best, but my best wasn’t good enough. No one should ever have to live through that.”

“He never hurt _me_,” I sobbed, glaring at him over her shoulder. I was terrified. I also felt very brave because he hadn’t done anything yet.

“That doesn’t mean what happened didn’t hurt you.” My aunt kissed my forehead. “Jitterbug, that’s not Logan.”

My world tilted on its side. I had to grab hold of her because I suddenly felt like I might fall over. “W-what?” 

She nodded, smiling so wide that it had to hurt. She laughed with relief, sharp and almost maniacal. “He died more than two years ago,” she said.

“But, then –” I screamed as Logan changed. Flesh melted and parted. He fell forward at the hips, like he was about to do yoga, but then he was on four legs that ended in hooves. Clothes did not disappear so much as fade beneath encroaching white fur. The creature that stood before me, in less than a moment, was no longer the monster I had feared in my childhood, but a whole new nightmare.

It looked like a horse that had been left to bloat and rot in the loch. Instead of the grinding teeth I expected of a horse, its mouth was full of sharp and dagger-like teeth, all that I could see because of the gaping holes in its cheeks where there should have been skin. Its mane and tail were soaked and tangled with water weeds, and its eyes were a ghostly white. 

My aunt cried out. “Lachlan, you’re scaring her!” 

I was sobbing and then, in a blink of an eye, the horrific beast disappeared. In its place was the most beautiful white pony I had ever seen, with kind brown eyes that I trusted instantly, even after what I had just seen. I quieted to hiccups as the pony snorted and made a show of bowing prettily to me. I giggled despite myself. I wanted to pet it. 

I was still scared, though. I looked to my aunt for guidance. 

She brushed my hair out of my face, detangling it from my wet cheeks. “I am so, so sorry, baby, that was not how I wanted this to go.” She glared at the pony.

The pony pricked his ears back and dipped his head. “I’m sorry,” said a voice. Whenever I used to visit and we went down to the water, I would put my head under and listen to the lake push and pull at the shore, the rhythmic rustle of pebbles and sand that was soothing. That was what the voice reminded me of, exactly like the loch. The pony took cautious steps toward us. “I know so much about you,” it said. “It felt like we were already friends. I messed up and I’m sorry. I know I look scary. Is this better?” It threw its head back and its mane caught in the wind. It was majestic and silly for a horse its size. Its head was level with my aunt’s, it was so small. 

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s better. But I… I still don’t understand? I’m confused and…” Scared. So scared. 

“Let me explain,” my aunt pleaded. “I’ve got cookies on the stove? If you want to eat while I talk.” 

I agreed because I didn’t know what else to do. I kept my eyes on the pony as my aunt and I went into the cottage. At the door, the pony stood up and became Logan again. Instantly, my fear was replaced with hatred. I snarled at him like _I_ was the monster. 

Logan smiled at me, like he enjoyed my rage, and then he became a woman I was not familiar with. She had caramel skin and still those deep brown eyes. Her hair was shaved on either side of her skull, but the top was heavy with tight black curls. She wore a water weed choker that I found pretty weird. I found most of this pretty weird. I think I was going into shock.

“You’re a… shapeshifter?” I guessed. 

“An each uisge,” my aunt told me, helping me to a seat. “Shapeshifting is a… part of them.” 

“What are the other parts?” I whined, tired and angry and frustrated. Scared and confused. Exhausted from feeling so much, honestly. 

The each uisge sat down across from me and smiled. “I ate your aunt’s husband,” she said. “He can never come back and hurt her again. As a matter of fact…” The each uisge – Lachlan, my aunt called him? Her? I was so confused? – “No one can ever hurt your aunt again.” She looked me dead in the eye. “I promise you that.” 

I was still confused and scared and unsure of what was going on, but that… that made everything a little better, somehow. I was pretty sure that this was a monster of myth, but… she had eaten the real monster, the one that had been slowly killing my aunt day by day. 

“Oh, you charmer,” my aunt said. She put a huge cookie in my hands and combed her fingers through Lachlan’s hair. She was glowing with happiness. She looked so healthy and full of life, like she had never known pain. I didn’t know how that was possible. My mom and Dave already hated each other, and that was before they got married. 

I hated to leave Dave behind, but I was seriously considering moving in with my aunt and her monster… husband? Wife? Partner? 

“So… You’re a shapeshifter,” I said, slowly pulling my scattered thoughts together, “that eats evil people?”

Lachlan tilted her head to the side as she thought about the question. Her hand came to her head and captured one of my aunt’s, fingers tangling together. She rubbed her thumb over the back of my aunt’s hand and held it to her lips. “More or less, though that’s not every each uisge. I am a… water spirit. That can shapeshift… and I eat fresh meat. Except for liver.” She made a face of disgust. “I can’t stand liver.” 

There was a long moment of silence. The cookie, still warm and gooey, just rested in my hands. 

“I don’t feel good,” I finally whispered. 

My aunt put the cookie back and led me to my room. “Let’s get you tucked in. It’s late enough, and you can sleep in. Take your time. I know this is a lot. I am so sorry. I was just… so excited about seeing you again, and not having to worry about… about him…” She smiled sadly. “This has become my normal, Jitterbug. I didn’t think about how this might impact you. I’m sorry. Do you want me to call Dave in the morning and have you go home? I know they’re about to go on a honeymoon, but I’m sure we could work something out.” She tucked me in, even though I was twelve and should have been too old. I didn’t even think of protesting. 

“No,” I decided. “I want to stay. I want to know more. I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too.” She kissed my forehead. “I’m glad you want to stay. Thank you. I love you,” she said. “Sweet dreams.”

I grabbed her wrist before she could leave. “Tell me,” I paused. “Tell me how it happened? Please?”

She frowned. “How what happened?”

“How did… you two meet? And how did _he_ die? Like, did Lachlan eat him and then you two met, or, or was it something else?” I was beginning this story in my head already of my beautiful, sweet aunt making a horrible loch monster fall in love with her and then the loch monster going off and eating Logan. 

She stared very pointedly at the blanket. “I don’t know if you’re ready for that story, baby.”

“I heard him,” I admitted. “When he… he hurt you. The ways he hurt you.” My throat closed with tears. I didn’t want to think about those horrible sounds, the things he said that made me scared of letting boys at school too close to me. “I… I want to know how he died.” 

My aunt combed my hair out of my face as she thought about it. Finally, she laid down beside me and pulled me close. 

“Once upon a time,” she began, “there was a woman who was in a lot of pain and in a very dark place…” 

She told me a story about a woman who hurt so much that a water spirit that had loved her for years came to her aid and made everything better. The water spirit ate her no-good husband, then took on his form so that no one would even known he was gone. The water spirit protected her and gave her lots of love and attention, helping her to heal. A little more than two years after the death of her actual husband, her wonderful, incredible niece came to visit, and she finally knew that everything was perfect in life. “The end,” she said.

I felt like the story was too short, some parts of it too vague. She had to have left a lot of stuff out, the stuff she thought I was too young to understand. She kissed me on the forehead, wished me a good night, and tiptoed away. 

I stared out the window, fighting the urge to crawl under the bed and hide. He was dead. Lachlan had eaten him and left nothing behind. It was still a long time before I could even fall half-asleep, though, which was probably why I heard it when my door creaked open.

“Sorry,” Lachlan said, just peeking through the door. “I check all the rooms at night to make sure the cottage is safe.”

“Are we?” _Are we safe?_ I wanted to ask.

Lachlan pushed the door open further and grinned. “Safer than a turtle in its shell.”

“Is he… is he really dead?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with relish, teeth sharp. “And he’s _never_ coming back.” 

“I feel like I’ll hear him,” I admitted shakily. “As soon as I start to relax, I’ll hear him hurting her again…” 

“You remember what you saw earlier, yeah? What I really look like?”

I nodded stiffly.

“He never stood a chance.” 

I thought about it. “I guess.” But how could I really know for sure? 

“And if anyone like him shows up? I’ll be here. And I’ll be _hungry_.” 

That… was nice to know, actually. It made me feel more comfortable in my bed, less like I had to hide. “If he’s not dead… He’d have to go through you to get to her.”

“He will get through me.” She smirked wickedly. “And I’ll push him out my ass. That’s just how shit is made. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.” 

“Ew,” I said. “Gross.”

“Trust me, he made a better pile of shit than he ever did a person.”

I giggled despite myself. “I believe that.” 

“Go to sleep, girly,” she said. “I’ve got you and your aunt. Nobody’s taking her away from me, and no one is going to make you hide under the bed again.”

“She told you about that?” I asked.

“She’s told me everything. She loves you so much, it felt like I already knew you by the time you actually showed up.” 

“I love her too,” I said, drowsy. I yawned and my eyes shut. “Hey,” I murmured. “Someday… will you tell me how you met? She gave me a story, but it didn’t feel real.”

“What’s real when an each uisge is guarding your house and canoodling with your aunt?” she teased. Nonetheless, she pulled the covers up to your shoulders. “Someday,” she said. “We’ll see.” 

~::~

You gave your niece the nice version, the braver version. You were just sad. You’d gone down to the loch to cry and the each uisge appeared to dry your tears. There was a happy ending.

This was the true story, starting a little more than two years ago when you walked down to the loch. 

You were done. You couldn’t do this anymore. You had nothing left worth fighting for, and nothing in the future to look forward to. Even your niece had been taken away, the last lifeline that kept you sane. You had wanted her gone – it wasn’t _safe_ for her with you. But that didn’t make it hurt less. The disappointment and need were like shards of glass in your heart, like an evil voice in your head that said _you should have known this day would come. _

You hurt in places you would rather not think about, places you had come to think of as not actually yours. You escaped to the loch while your husband was away drinking. 

You remembered the good times of going swimming here with your sister and niece, before your sister got caught up in other men and your niece started to realize that Logan was hurting you. You tried your best to protect her, but you could see in the way she acted when she came over that she knew all the same. At least you had memories of them here at the loch.

It seemed fitting, then, that you would end it here. 

You walked up and down the shore, collecting the biggest rocks you could find. You had worn your rain jacket with the deep pockets that zipped. Once you went under the waves, you didn’t plan to come back up. You wanted freedom and this was the only way to get it.

Your pockets full, you stood at the shore, staring out at the waves. You trembled and shook and your lungs burned, as if they already felt the strain of no air. 

The honest truth was that… you didn’t want to die.

But you couldn’t keep living like this.

It would be so much faster if you used a knife. If you kept walking till you reached the cliff and threw yourself over. For some reason, despite how terrified you were, this was what you wanted. The sound of the waves moving over the sand comforted you. You had been happy here before. 

This was what you wanted.

You didn’t want to die.

But you had to.

It wasn’t like Logan was going to keel over anytime soon. It wasn’t like the authorities were going to help you. They always took Logan’s side over yours. That’s what you got when your husband used to be an officer. 

You took your first step into the water.

A soft knicker startled you, making you leap backwards. You were terrified for a moment that someone on a horse was watching. You swung around, trying to think of something to say, and came to see just a white pony. It had no reins, no saddle, and no one with it. Yet, it was the most beautiful pony you had ever seen, its white locks wavy and falling silkily down its thick neck and rounded rump. At first sight, you were in love. 

“Oh,” you breathed, and reached out a hand. “May I touch you?” you asked. It had always been a habit of yours to talk to animals. You didn’t do it in front of Logan anymore, though. He didn’t like it when you talked to anyone, even if they couldn’t talk back. 

The pony swung its head and then took ambling steps till your fingertips touched its velvety nose. “Oh, but you are gorgeous, aren’t you?” you said more than asked, stroking from between its ears to its nose. You cupped a wide jaw in your hand and stepped away from the water and toward the pony. You pressed your face to its and rubbed its cheeks. The pony sighed with pleasure and took another step forward.

Your hand ran through its mane and… caught on something. What was it? 

You pulled your hand free and looked. It was water weed. More of it was tangled in the pony’s white tresses.

Tears sprang into your eyes. You were no fool. You had lived in Scotland long enough to know what this meant. 

“I see,” you said. “I guess… I suppose… I planned to die anyway, didn’t I?” You collapsed to your knees. “Please… wait until I’m dead before you start eating me. Please. I don’t want to be alive for that kind of pain.”

The pony kneeled before you and was not a pony by the time a hand gently lifted your chin. The woman who looked at you was breathtaking and had the deep, warm eyes of the pony. “I don’t want you dead,” the water spirit said, because that was what she was. All the signs were there. “I want you to live. That’s why I stopped you. I’ve missed you.” She brushed a hand over a bruise on your face. “I’ve missed seeing you happy.” 

She took both of your hands in hers and kissed your knuckles. The intimacy of it made your heart stutter. When was the last time someone had touched you with such reverence? “Take me home with you,” the each uisge said. “I’ll devour any fucker who thinks they can do this to you.”

Hope, as nasty and terrible as it was, flickered in your chest. “Do you… Do you promise?” The each uisage nodded. “What would you want in return?” you asked. There had to be a catch. There was no way this creature was going to remove the monster from your life out of the goodness of her heart, given that she had one.

“Let me stay with you,” the each uisge said. “You used to come here so often. I’ve wanted to hear your laughter for so long. Let me live with you. Let me stay by your side.”

This sounded awfully like…

“Do you… Do you have… _feelings_ for me? I don’t, I can’t…”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to do anything. You owe me nothing. If you don’t want me to stay with you, I’ll come back here. Maybe you could come visit more, like old times? Maybe you won’t, though, now that you know there’s a monster in the loch…”

You gazed at her. “You’re not a monster,” you finally decided. “My husband is. And… I think I am too.”

“You?” she gasped, startled. 

“I want him dead. I want him dead so _badly_, I can see myself killing him. I hate that, I hate that I might be capable of that…”

“Then I must be a monster, and a really monstrous one at that,” the each uisge teased. “I want him dead so badly that I plan to kill him. I’ll eat him and spit out his liver for the crows to finish off. If you’ll let me.”

“_Please_,” you practically beg. You hold her hand and lead her home. Your husband’s pickup is in front of the house and Whilikers is limping. Logan probably kicked him again. You want to check and make sure that he will be okay, but you want Logan gone more. You stand by the pickup, staring at the house that used to be your castle and was now your prison.

“Wait here,” the each uisge said, and let go of you.

“Wait!” you hissed after her. She paused and looked back at you. You felt embarrassed, but, “You never… You never told me your name. I never told you mine. It seems like something we should do before… Before you kill someone for me.”

She smiled, a slow and warm transformation. “Lachlan,” she said.

“Fitting,” you reply. You tell her your name.

“I know,” was all she said, and then she looked just like you. She was short and chubby and had your eyes and your hair. The thing that was different about her, though, was that she held her head up high and looked painfully confident. You had been beaten down into a shadow of yourself, barely surviving day to day. She wore you better than you did.

With a jaunty wave, she disappeared into your house. Obediently, you waited where she had left you. You became scared that Logan got to her before she got to him, that maybe he was hurting her. You became sick with the thought that you just sent someone into your worst nightmare.

Just as you were getting yourself ready to storm the cottage, so scared you felt like you could vomit, Lachlan opened the front door. She looked like her again, that beautiful woman with the deep brown eyes. 

She smiled as she beckoned you in. You hesitated, terrified. 

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll protect you.” You went to her and she held your hand as she guided you inside.

It had only been a few minutes since she first went in. Somehow, though, she had changed the entire cottage. It took some moments before you realized that what was different was that everything that belonged to Logan was gone. Even the furniture he had bought. Everything had been replaced with stuff you did not recognize as your own, but that you enjoyed nonetheless. Pictures of him had been removed and holes in the walls had been patched up like they had never existed. Opening up cupboards and cabinets, you found that even his favorite foods that you were not allowed to touch – _“you fucking _pig_,”_ he would snarl if he thought she had touched his deer meat in the freezer – were gone and the beer had been removed from the fridge. 

You spun in a circle in the kitchen, feeling like it actually belonged to you. For one glorious moment, you were extremely happy.

Smiling, laughing, twirling round and round, you caught Lachlan and started dancing with her. “He’s gone!” you squealed. “He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s _gone_!” 

She laughed with you, pulling you into a dip. “He’s gone for good,” she agreed.

“He’s gone!” you yell.

And then reality pushed back in.

“Someone’s going to realize he’s missing sooner or later,” you said, and your whole body went cold. You hadn’t thought this through. “People are going to know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Lachlan stated. “I did.” 

“I can’t say a water spirit ate my horrible bear of a husband!” You cried out. “Oh, no, and, and even if no one figures it out – how am I supposed to, what do I do to… He made the money. I haven’t had a job in years, I don’t know what to…”

Now Lachlan pulled you in close to support you. “It’s okay,” she said. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I have a plan. We’re not going to like it, but it’s a good plan.”

“What is it?” you asked. 

“I can shapeshift and look like him. No one will even know he’s missing.”

You shuddered at the idea of someone looking just like Logan. “And the money?” you asked instead of outright saying no. “And, and what about your life? You can’t just keep pretending to be him.”

All she said was, “I’ll take care of you.”

And she did. 

First of all, it was obscene how much money was lost in the loch, just in terms of priceless objects and historical artefacts. You really didn’t have to worry about money.

Second of all, even though she could look just like Logan, nothing she ever did was like how Logan would do it. It was terrible, getting used to seeing him. For the first few months, you dissociated from yourself whenever she looked like Logan, preparing yourself for abuse. When she failed to do as Logan would do and helped you come back to your body, you felt like a small piece of you was cheering for you to get better. Not great, but just better. Just enough for you to smile and feel more like you were allowed to be happy. 

Third of all, it was Lachlan herself that changed everything. Of course, she was the one who had changed everything – she had gotten rid of Logan, she provided for you, and she was the one thing that stopped Logan’s friends from realizing he was missing. None of his friends were necessarily happy with this new and gentle Logan who was calling them out for being abusive assholes, but no one suspected that he wasn’t Logan at all. 

When you think of Lachlan, though, you think of how kind and patient she has been with you. She had to return to the loch every night to soak in the water, but she was always there when you woke up crying from a nightmare. She was there every day to make you laugh and feel safe and just, just feel _good_ about being you. You binge watched tv shows in the living room, curled up together under a mountain of blankets even though she overheated easily. You made caramel apples once and she promptly absconded with the whole tray right out the back door, having you chase her while you both laughed and giggled. She looked at you with those deep brown eyes, eyes that knew what you had been through, that saw the parts of you that you hated, and she… she felt something for you anyway. Love, perhaps? Could it be? You weren’t ready to find out. You were flayed open, desperate for her attention and touch because you had been starved of it, and also so scared of what would happen if you let yourself lean on her. She was a water spirit that ate humans – she had to have a limit. You would reach it sooner or later if you weren’t careful.

Day by day, your fears dwindled. Eight months passed by and you no longer flinched when “Logan” touched you, if only because “Logan” spoke with her voice and had her deep brown eyes. You rejoiced at the sight of her, no matter her form – even the bloated horse form she favored right before she went hunting.

How messed up were you that she went hunting – for _humans_ – in the guise of a rotting corpse with a mouthful of jagged teeth and you still sighed and smiled after her? You were ruined, was what you were. Unfixable after being broken.

You blamed Logan for what you had become, that you listened to news of Logan’s friends going missing, one every few months, and you felt a little better each time. You blamed him and you felt powerful in knowing that you could blame him. He couldn’t hurt you anymore. There was nothing he could do to stop you from blaming him.

One morning, you randomly smiled victoriously into the bathroom mirror. “_Fuck_. Yourself. _Logan_.” You bared your teeth like Lachlan sometimes did when she was teasing. You felt energized. 

You felt like it was okay to be alive. 

You trotted down the stairs and Lachlan was sitting at the kitchen table, staring forlornly at the stove. She turned sad brown eyes on you. “I wish there were pancakes,” she said. 

“I wish you would learn to cook,” you replied as you started pulling out the ingredients for pancakes. 

“You expect too much from this little, old water spirit.”

You paused. “Do I?” 

The chair scraped against the ground. She hugged you from behind, safe and warm like a heavy blanket. “Never,” Lachlan assured her. “I’m happy with everything you’ve given me. I’d give you more if I had more to give.” 

“This is everything I want,” you said, and it was true. Mostly true.

You wanted to kiss her, but you just weren’t brave enough yet. You weren’t _ready_ enough yet. You had been tethered to Logan’s fist for almost four years. You couldn’t tether yourself to Lachlan’s giving palms just yet.

Soon, you decided. Maybe. Given more time.

Another year passed and you kissed her on a random night in summer. She gasped against your mouth, eyes widening. 

“Make love to me,” you said, proud of yourself for being brave, a little giggly from just one drink of liquid courage. 

“Tomorrow,” she choked out, licking her lips. “You’re not totally sober. Ask me again tomorrow, _please_. Please, if you mean it, ask me again tomorrow.”

Tears sprang to your eyes. “I can’t believe how much I love you,” you said. She made a high-pitched keening sound of need and kissed you on the forehead sloppily. 

“Please tell me that again tomorrow,” she begged into your hair. She seemed to think that you were too drunk to know what you had just done and said. 

Grumpy and touched beyond words by her care of you, you wordlessly agreed. You made your own demand, nonetheless. “Take me to the loch with you,” you said, already tossing on your camping pack. You practically kept it by the door at this point so that you could sleep by the loch some nights to stay close to her. “So that sex is the first thing we do in the morning.”

She groaned again as if your words gave her physical pleasure. “Yes, sweetheart,” she said. “Whatever you say.” 

You rode the short distance to the loch on her back. You had ridden both the bloated corpse and the pretty pony. Each put you in a different mood. The first made you feel like you were ready to go to battle and the second made you feel soft and fuzzy around the edges. She knew that and so you were riding the pretty pony, feeling soft and warm and dainty. She set up your tent once you hopped off her back and she shooed you to bed. She was overly eager for tomorrow to come, you could tell.

So were you.

When the morning light lit up the tent and woke you up, she was already in the doorway, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes. She tried to smile, but her mouth quivered with nerves.

“I love you,” was the first thing you said, morning breath and all. “I love you so much.” You held up a finger to hold her back. “Let me go to the restroom and then we can make love.”

She whined with excitement and tumbled into my tent as I fought my way free. She would keep it warm for you. 

You wondered, as you did your business, if she was already naked. What did she look like naked? Now you needed to know. 

Except, as you raced back to the tent, you got nervous. How far did she want to go? How far were you able to go? You crawled back into the tent. She watched you with dark eyes and flushed cheeks.

“If I… If I need to stop…” You were going to say, _I’m sorry_. 

She interrupted. “Then we stop. No questions asked, no apologies needed.” It was that easy for her. “And maybe we cuddle?” 

“Yes!” you agreed. “We cuddle.”

It began with a kiss that slowly pushed you back into the bedroll. She loomed over you, warm and strong and beautiful. 

“I love you,” you whispered again as clothing disappeared. “I love you,” you cried out as she descended upon your breasts with an unexpected hunger. “I love you,” you whimpered as she kissed her way down your body to the mound between your legs. “Wait,” you said. “Wait, maybe, maybe not that far.” 

Lachlan crawled back up, mouth just shy of your nipple again. “Is here okay?”

“_Yes_, yes, that’s _good_.” She rested over you and spent an eternity familiarizing herself with you boobs. You kneaded her back, her shoulders, her buttocks. You combed your hands through her short, curly hair and pulled it. 

It didn’t go much farther than that the first night and it was _perfect_. 

“I love you,” you said one last time before you fell asleep.

You said it again when you woke up beside her.

And you’ve been saying it every morning since.

You loved her. This monster that saved you from a horridly monstrous man. You loved her.

“She asked me how we met,” you tell Lachlan as she came down the stairs. “I’m not ready for her to know just how low I got.” 

Lachlan waved a hand dismissively and pulled you into her arms, swaying through the kitchen like you were slow dancing. “She figured you left something out. I told her I might tell her the full story someday. Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.” She kissed the tip of your nose.

“Have I told you today how much I love you?” you said. 

She laughed. “I can’t remember,” she said, though you definitely had and numerous times at that. “Tell me again.”

“I love you,” you sang against her mouth. “I love you, I love you, I love you…” 

“I love you too,” she whispered back. 

**Author's Note:**

> I read a lot of monster boyfriend stories on Tumblr, but I have no idea how to post stories to Tumblr. In honor of Momolady's hard work, I wrote this for her. I hope she likes it!


End file.
